


Teach Me How to Be Loved

by CharlesMeansSegenToErik



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Author should stop tagging now, Big Mutant Family, Calm Down Erik, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Charles You Slut, Childhood Friends, Classism, Crushes, Enthusiastic Consent, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is a Shark, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Growing Up, High School, Homosexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, More Tags Later?, Mutant Powers, Mutants Are Integrated and NORMAL in This Society, Ninety Percent of the story is underage, Nipple Piercings, No Armando/ Darwin sorry, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Nudity, Physical Abuse, Piercings, Poor Charles, Powered AU, Romance, Seriously its coming I promise!, Sexual Abuse, Size Kink, Slash, Sleepy Cuddles, Slurs, Suicide, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The feels, Therapy, Though of course like with other minority groups there is prejudice, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, boy/boy, eventually, everything pierced, eyebrow piercing, lip piercing, nose piercing, rich kid/ poor kid, seriously, underage everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlesMeansSegenToErik/pseuds/CharlesMeansSegenToErik
Summary: Charles Xavier used to want to save the world. Now it's all he can do to save himself. Erik wants to help. (Mutants are known and integrated in this world. It starts somewhere in the nineties. There is still a lot of unease around visible mutants as well as some problems with integration but for the most part mutants have the rights humans do. Erik is heavily pierced and tattooed and unapologetic. Charles is a big baby deer Erik wants to cuddle. Have fun- this is a totally lighthearted summary but it's NOT a fluffy story so please be forewarned. That said i cannot STAND to not give them a happy ending so don't despair.)





	1. Genesis

Charles Xavier used to want to save the world.

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As a young boy, there used to be days when all he could see when he looked out the bay window of his home was the beauty of this place, the peace. He loved running through the halls of their cavernous house with Raven, a gleeful blue sprite, giggling behind him as they played their made up games; the euphoric few moments in which he could imagine he was as weightless as a feather when they snuck into his mum’s room to jump on her bed- she had the most bouncy one, you see, so when she was off tending to the staff or some other such grown up matters, his sister would call to him in his mind from wherever she was, pleading with him to come play; he could never tell her no.

Mum and Da were always busy, but supper was the time when everyone would stop what they were doing and come together to talk. Charles was always the first one there; hearing in their minds when the cooks were finished. He would usually yell out to his little sister informing her that dinner was ready if she were not already by his side (his ability to project had not yet manifested at the time).

 Mother would join them next, at one head of their long mahogany table; she never needed a summons as she was usually embroiled in the cooking process- picking the meal and supervising its creation. It was father who always needed to be reminded to pull away from his studies in the lab downstairs. At the time, he didn’t know what it meant when father went on about genes, and chromosomes among other strange words; what he did know was his Da was very smart and he wore a coat like a doctor so he must do important things.

He often got distracted, thus mother would send a servant off to fetch him after they were all settled. Interrupted work or not, Da always had a brilliant smile for his little girl, a hair tussle for Charles, and a soft kiss for his wife’s cheek as he passed to take his own seat.

Raven hated vegetables, but under mum’s stern gaze, would always eat them. He would grin at father and tell him about how his practice with the violin was coming along. He’s only seven- almost eight!- years old, but father says he could be famous one day. Without fail, his sister would demand seconds for dessert, but then always push it away after a few bites claiming herself full. (Secretly Charles thinks Mum and Da always knew she saved it for Mabel, their elderly tan corgi; but they never said a word, merely nodding whilst clearing their plates).

It had been so very simple, and all the more lovely for it. Sure, there were days in which Charles wished his father were around more, and mum would take them to the carnival when it came to town, or Raven didn’t have one of the bratty outbursts she was particularly prone to that lasted hours and took all the attention of their parents. Days when the house was too still, or too quiet; when mother and father fought- they hid it well from his sister but their minds screamed at Charles even from across great distances- and the air was as thick with tension as the rain that poured so often outside.

 They never lasted long, though, not really. He would just try to keep his mind in his beloved books or turn to practicing his violin, then the bad days would pass, the sun would peek back out from behind the heavy clouds as they dispersed, and the world would shine once more.  Charles grew to learn, that for all the bad days sucked, the memories of a good day past and the promise of the good days to come kept his heart warm.

Until the day his father dies.

 

 

Brian Xavier committed suicide on November fourteenth, nineteen ninety-five at exactly six minutes past seven o’clock in the evening. It took thirty-eight minutes for him to die. Charles knows this because he felt it. Felt it from the moment the bullet tore through the bottom of his chin and ripped out the top of his skull to the moment the light in his eyes finally flickered and died.

Later he will hear that the angle was off, almost as if the hand holding the pistol had twitched at the last second, and because of that, it did not kill him immediately, but rather allowed him to bleed out very slowly.

Charles is the only one who knows that he was conscious for a very long time after- albeit not able to speak or move. He had come to bid goodnight to his Da and had only just reached the door to his lab when the shot rang out, the sound causing him to shriek, and cover up his ears. He only had a split second to wonder what the noise was before his father’s thoughts came pouring into his head and the sheer agony brought him to his knees.

He had no control back then, and his range was weak unless the person was thinking very loudly or emotionally. So on that night when the shouting started in his head he had no idea what to do. He collapsed onto his side, palms blocking his ears in what he knew was a futile attempt at quelling them, but felt he had to try, regardless.

_MakeitstoppleasesomebodyPLEASEmakeitSTOP!!!!!!!!!_

The pain was such that he had never experienced, but worse than that was the underlying emotions. The searing torture his father was going through was only part of what Charles could feel. Beneath it there was an overwhelming amount of murky information being thrust at him, but all of it was shrouded in a deep, suffocating _sadness_.

Tears leaked from his clenched eyes, and he rocked himself back and forth subconsciously- something his mother often did to comfort him when he had had a nightmare. Vaguely, though his ears were covered, he felt he could hear something-A wet, high pitched almost feral sound echoing through the hall. It took a few minutes to realize he was screaming.

He couldn’t move, his muscles seemed frozen, but even if he could have Charles has no idea what he would have done. Perhaps run to his father’s side- pressed his fingers to the bloody surface of his skull and hope it helped, or maybe he would have stayed exactly where he was-stunned. As it was all he could do was scream and cry and beg someone, _anyone_ to help him.

“Please somebody, help! Help us, PLEASE!” He begged over and over into the quiet.

No one came. The staff had the evening off as it was the weekend, and Mum had taken Raven to a friend’s house after dinner (they should have been back by now, Charles’ mind whispered).

Eventually his voice went hoarse, and his eyes could leak no more. But the pain stayed, and raged, and beat behind his eyes until he wanted to claw them out to get the images and words to just STOP. Finally, _finally_ , they abated, getting softer and softer until he was alone in his head again. But it wasn’t like normal where he could still sense pulsing warmth of the mind in his periphery. This was different. And he knew- even as little as he is with no concept of what death is- he just… _knew_.

Da was gone.

His memories got a little blurry after that. He remembers Mum finding him later that night, still curled up in a ball in front of father’s door, eyes wide and sightless. Sometimes he thinks he can remember her soft touch to his hair, worried tone coming from her lips but the words don’t make it to his ears. The wailing does though, once she opens the door he is blocking. He can still hear it sometimes, even now when he passes that part of the house. It isn’t the volume of it, but rather the wrenching devastation; the sound of a heart shattering. It doesn’t cease for a long time.

He remembers little Raven half-shielded behind the wall where it turns a corner, too frightened to come closer, fat droplets of saltwater dripping from her bewildered golden eyes. Remembers being cradled, and rocked for what felt like hours before somehow being tucked into his bed. Bright red hair and azure skin crowding up against his side, shaking as they huddle beneath the heavy blankets.

He doesn’t remember going to sleep that night, but he opens his eyes and suddenly it’s been months, and father is buried in the family plot at Westchester Cemetery. The sun shines every day, and the staff bustle around the house as they always have done. But mum stays locked up in her room, refuses to look at or speak to him and Raven. She has a look in her eyes that when turned on him, strokes a cool finger of dread down the back of his spine.  Her hand is never empty of a glass, something dark colored inside-he’s not certain what- but it makes her walk funny.

It’s just him and Raven at the dinner table now. It’s always just him and Raven everywhere. It’s been three months since father died and things take on a new normal of a sorts; though a far less joyous one than previously. The only memories he has of that year that he wishes to remember are of the expansion of his abilities. He doesn’t have to try to hear thoughts anymore. It is as easy as breathing. And projecting his thoughts to others is still difficult but he and Raven practice- Raven eager to try projecting as well. She’s excited to be able to speak secretly with him without others knowing.  Charles attempts to help her with her powers as well but at five (“five and three quarters Charles!”) years old her ability to shapeshift is far from developed. At most she can change her eye color and sometimes her hair, but it’s based off of concentration and-being so young- she has a drastically short attention span.

In the end Charles decides it’s far too early for her to worry about it. Raven pouts but gets distracted when he plops Mabel into her lap. She doesn’t bring it up again until two years later.

The day Mum joins Da in the ground.

 

 

His name is Mr. Marko. When he reaches out a hand to shake Charles’ (such a well-mannered boy Sharon) there is something ugly in his eyes, and when he smiles, Charles notes that the teeth bared at him yellowing. Charles ignores these things and shakes the massive hand politely. When he goes to let go Mr. Marko doesn’t let go for a second, squeezing a bit harder as he looks into Charles’ eyes.  Raven stands behind him, clinging to his shirt (she’s not left his side since father died) and craning her neck to get a look at the stranger.  

She clumsily projects her distrust at Charles and he winces. Sometimes she tends to project in a way that is similar to someone shouting in his ear. When Mr. Marko still hasn’t released his tight grip on Charles’ hand and it begins to become painful, Charles wrenches his hand back, watching as the man’s eyes narrow. After scrutinizing Charles (a relatively new experience for him, as Raven with her deep blue skin and bright golden eyes has always garnered more attention when first met), he turns and holds his hand out to his sister, Raven’s grasp on his shirt tightens and her fingernails dig into his skin.

 _Be calm, sister,_ he projects soothingly, allowing his mind to wrap around hers in a pseudo embrace.

It does the trick as it always does, and her grip slackens, but she still shies away from Mr. Marko. Obviously un-phased, Mr. Marko laughs and turns to mum joking about shyness or whatever, Charles isn’t paying attention anymore because mum is glaring at Raven and himself.

_Good for nothing brats, the first man to be interested in months, and this is how they behave, God just go away._

He bows his head and avoids her stare, towing Raven by the hand out of the foyer to bid her silent order. Their parents have known about their powers of course, but they never talked much about them unless one of them tried to use them to break the rules (he may or may not have tried to read his tutor’s mind to cheat on a test once). But his new reach with his telepathy is something neither he nor Raven has told their mum about so she likely doesn’t know he overheard her.

When they have walked out of earshot Charles pulls Raven to stand in front of him. “You mustn’t be so rude, little sister. Mum was displeased.”

“But he scares me,” she whispers, gaze on her feet.

Charles sighs, and hugs her tiny body close, “I’m here to protect you, okay? I promise no one will ever hurt you, Raven.”

She says nothing but curls into his chest, and there is a warm tinge to her thoughts.

Over the following years, his promise is tested many times, but is never broken.

 

 

The day of his mother’s wedding to Kurt Marko, Charles locks himself away in one of the bathrooms, climbs into the bathtub, and weeps. It’s been one year and six months since Da passed, and Mum seems to have wiped him from her life completely.  She remodeled the mansion, donated or threw out his belongings, and never says his name. The first time Charles brought him up after his death she slapped him across the face hard enough to leave a mark the next day. He hasn’t done it since, and warned Raven against it as well. The only things left of Brian Xavier that she could not erase- not for lack of trying though-are his children.

But he knows that dwelling on his father will only make this new life harder. So he cries, and he sobs and he pleads with his Da to understand and then when his eyes dry and he can cry no more, Charles wraps the memories of his father up tight and puts them away in a box under lock and key. He will save them for the future; maybe one day he can open that box, and relive his years with his Da, but that day is not today.

Later that evening after the wedding, when the grownups have all come and gone, mum and Mr. Marko have gone to her room, and Raven is sound asleep- Charles made sure to tuck her in real good, so she would feel safe- and he lies awake in his own bed, Charles reflects on his new step-father.

He had tripped and knocked into the man, who had been speaking with another grownup, and when Kurt turned to see what had collided with his legs, Charles had only just taken in the scowl on his face when he hears quite clearly: _Little freak, don’t know how Sharon put up with this scrawny shit underfoot all the time. Doesn’t matter, he will learn soon enough._ He flinches at the menace behind the thought, quickly stammering out an apology before running off on his way. He feels Kurt’s eyes boring into his back the whole way across the room until he turns into a hallway.

He wouldn’t say he is a kind man, but neither would he say he is an evil one; perhaps a bit...unsettling sometimes, maybe a little mean. But he resolves to make friends with the man his mum has decided to make family and pushes the lingering unease to the back of his mind.

That was not the first time Charles had ignored the signs, but soon enough it didn’t matter. Because Kurt Marko made it quite clear what sort of man he was the very next day. And he didn’t stop for a very long time.

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Charles Xavier used to want to save the world.

Now he’s just trying to save himself.


	2. Author Note

Hey guys Im really sorry but I rushed into this one too fast in my excitement to get it started. I am still going to work on this but I am scrapping this and starting over. I will repost it later once I have a better feel for how I want it to really go. I am leaving this note up for a few days so you guys can see it and then I am deleting the story. Don't worry! It will be back! In the meantime I am gonna post a few little one shots in various other universes lol. Please check them out as I post them!   
Much Love  
xoxoxxoxo


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